


Glitter and Gold

by derekstilinski



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF, ScrewAttack RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Bathtubs, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Established Relationship, Feeding, GTA AU, Implied Relationships, Kissing, M/M, Rough Kissing, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: GTA!AU - The latest heist went well, not too many injuries. Sam and Chad end it the way they end all heists, with a bath.





	Glitter and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> In the same vein as the Fake AH Crew, they're immortal but can still be harmed. Just a self indulgent piece based on some headcanon. Sam's the golden boy of the group, and Chad is indulgent with self care.

Chad cleans the last of the blood out of his eye, grimacing at his naked reflection in the mirror, lit by the dim light coming from the hallway through the open bathroom door. The bleeding has stopped, and the bruising will be gone soon enough. The heist went well - they got the money, Shaun got himself a new stolen police car, and they lost the cops easy. Injuries were low; Sam got a bullet to the thigh and Shaun got burned by his own molotov. As usual. He’d be covered in burns if they all weren’t miraculous healers.

He tosses the bloody cloth into the sink to soak and sighs, fixing his hair. He’s thankful there’s no blood in it today. He moves back towards the filling tub, where keeping with tradition there are multiple different types of melts and bath bombs swirling in the tub. It’s turned the water a shimmering gold, and leaves his skin soft when he reaches in to test the temperature.

Their first successful heist ended with them walking away with all the cash they could carry, a new car to repaint and three gold bars each. It was heavy, but Sam convinced them all to add the bars to their bags. Sam had always been the golden boy of the group, primarily using knives - and a lone golden pistol. They were all so hyped up during their getaway, Shaun racing onto back roads and under bridges to make sure they didn’t get caught. It jostled Chad and Sam in the backseat, pressed in close next to their bags and Shaun’s.

Riding the adrenaline high, Sam had grabbed for him, hands bloody from fighting, and planted the roughest kiss of his life on him. When they were back at the safehouse, they left their bags on the floor under their clothes and tended to their wounds. A stray bullet had cut through the muscle in one of Chad’s shoulders, not very pleasant, and Sam had suggested a bath to do what painkillers and booze didn’t fully cover. He patched Chad up and they migrated to the tub. In an attempt to be indulgent and maybe even romantic, Sam had slid in a bath bomb, knowing where Chad’s stash was. He made some sort of joke about bathing in gold now that they had actual gold in the other room. It was easy to wind down that night, and it was even easier to let it be a tradition, a sign of success.

No matter how many heists they pull now, it always has it’s official end there in the bathtub, both of them slathered in gold, getting more extravagant as time goes on. Sam walks gingerly into the room, leg effectively wrapped up and secured, then covered in what Chad suspects is saran wrap to keep the gauze safe from the water. He leans on the counter in his underwear and open shirt, and grins, “Kinda dark, don’t you think?”

Chad comes forward to slip the shirt off Sam’s shoulders, stained with blood at the collar, midsection and cuffs, “Headache. Keep the light off,” he looks down and inspects Sam’s wrapped leg, “You good?”

“Always, you know me. Took a little finesse to get the slug out,” Sam shrugs, running his fingers over the bruising starting to appear on Chad’s side, just under his ribs, “You good? Boots to the side isn’t somethin’ favorable.”

“No cracked ribs, so I’d say it is favorable.” He says, fingers skirting around the edge of a vertical cut by Sam’s collarbone. It’s nothing too bad, a scratch by their standards and the only reason it’s really been tended to is because it’s a line through Sam’s tattoo. He’s adjusted it back and taped it in place so the lines meet up again, so it’ll heal correctly.

Sam looks down at it again, squinting. His hand slips around Chad’s waist, “I tried to get the lines even.”

“It’s perfect, don’t worry about it.” Chad looks up in time to be kissed, encouraged closer by Sam’s hands, letting his head be tilted down slightly. It’s a lazy kiss, slow tongue and hushed breath. Chad’s had a few shots of something with cinnamon in it and Sam must have had a cigarette with his rum and coke. One of Chad’s hands settles on the counter behind Sam, and the other hand finds its way into Sam’s hair, running up through the hair on the back of his head. Shorter now, cut just a week ago. Harder to pull on, not that he’s going to this time. Chad feels fingers press against a few tense spots on his back and he sighs into Sam’s mouth, flicks his tongue against Sam’s. He pulls back after, hands sliding down to waistband of Sam’s boxer-briefs. He takes them down easy, making sure he doesn’t knock his knuckles or the fabric over Sam’s wound.

Chad gets in the tub first and shuts off the water, then holds onto Sam’s hands to help him in. He spreads his thighs and Sam settles between them. The water must be too hot for his wound right now, because he hisses quietly and turns enough to get that leg out of the water. Chad grabs one of their towels from the floor and cushions the back of Sam’s knee from the side of the tub with it. It’s not terribly uncomfortable, Sam using one of Chad’s thighs as a backrest. It’s much easier to see his face now than if he was lying against Chad’s torso, and he still gets comfortable against him anyway.

The light from the open door makes the glitter glow in the movement of the water, and it sticks to their skin like delicate accessories. The oils have scented the air and softened the water, making each touch a glide. It’s one of their favorite parts besides the look of it, every touch feeling softer than velvet, smoother than silk. Sam reaches up and moves Chad’s fringe out of the way to get a good look at his eye, “Let’s see what we got here,”

His fingers are gentle, a slow swipe around the edges of the bruise that’s already made up of angry reds and blues. It’ll pass from blue to purple to green by tomorrow, then be gone the day after that. Sam hums softly at the redness in his eye and Chad huffs at him, amused at the concern. Sam rolls his eyes and takes his hands away, leaving a smudge of gold over his bruise and cheekbone, “Shut up. You inspected me, too.”

Chad chuckles and slides his hand over Sam’s shoulder, to the back of his neck to press into the tense muscles, “So sorry. What’s your prognosis?”

Sam tips his head forward slightly, quiet moan of relief leaving him when Chad slowly kneads the tendons in his neck, “Ah, you’ll live.”

Chad snorts, head falling back with a laugh, “No shit.”

Sam grins and leans against him, eyes fixating on the swirls of gold that twist with a wave of his hand. He can't help but make these quiet, pleased noises while Chad rubs his neck, easing the tension right out of him. Chad's fingers move up, massaging at the base of his skull, before he's slipping his fingers up through Sam’s hair. Sam looks at him then, and smiles softly before he slides his hand up Chad’s torso, leaving gold streaks over his skin. Coming up to hold his cheek, he brings Chad close, their noses lightly bumping. Chad is eager to be close to him like this, eyes on Sam’s mouth.

Sam licks over his lips and the corner of his mouth pulls up in a grin, “If you’re gonna do it, just do it.”

Chad breathes out like Sam’s words are a relief, and closes the small distance between them, his hand gently taking a fistful of Sam’s hair. Chad kisses him like it’s something he’s been wanting all night, Sam can feel it with how he moves his lips like he’s continually asking Sam for permission. How he shudders when Sam slides his tongue into his mouth, to say _yes, take it, go ahead._ Chad gives a quiet noise in response, like he’s surprised, like he thought maybe he was asking too much. Sam just leans into it more.

Chad’s free hand slips around his waist, squeezing him closer while he traps Sam’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Sam digs his fingers into Chad’s jaw with a light groan. Chad moans into his mouth, tongue and teeth enthusiastic. The water shifts with them, Chad pressing up, wanting more, getting greedy. It makes Sam moan. Chad slides his hand up, fingers catching on one of Sam’s nipple rings, water splashing at the jolt the touch brings on. Chad laughs against Sam’s mouth and Sam sucks on his tongue to shut him up.

The kiss becomes less careful, more insistent, pulling. It’s so easy to work Chad up, satisfying to let him have things to the point where it becomes a competition to please. They start seeing who can maintain the upper hand, who can make the other moan the loudest, what makes the other squirm and press for more. Chad’s index and middle finger catch on either side of Sam’s right nipple ring and tug, while his fist tightens in Sam’s hair. Sam’s moan is broken, breathy and Chad hums in victory. That’s until Sam’s fingers slip from Chad’s cheek to his throat, stopping him and holding him there with a firm hand. Chad’s gasp is immensely satisfying to Sam’s ears, and he laughs under his breath at Chad’s mouth going slack, hands each falling away gently, one over Sam’s back and one into the water. He presses a light kiss to Chad’s lower lip before slowly pressing him back so his head rests against the wall.

“A little eager, I’d say,” he grins, guiding Chad’s head slowly from side to side, getting a good look at the blush now settled deep on his cheeks, “Thought all the adrenaline was outta you.”

There's no real pressure behind how he's holding him. It's just the weight and rigidity of Sam's hand that gets him like this, because he knows how good it is when it escalates, when Sam holds him down in other ways. Sam's brought him over the edge so many times before while he’s tied down, it's so easy to recall them every time he's here again. He's immediately flustered, panting lightly while a shudder wracks through him. It never fails to get him going, and Sam knows that. He tests if he's allowed to touch, fingers cautious as they skim up along Sam's side. There's no reprimand so he knows it's not a more serious authority Sam's trying to bring. He takes in a shaking breath when Sam kisses him, at the same time his fingers rub the sides of his neck. It has him arching up but not getting very far, moaning around Sam’s tongue in his mouth.

A soft knock on the door frame is accompanied by a shadow blocking their light, and Sam takes his sweet time pulling back to see who it is. He licks over his lips and nods his head in greeting, “Craig.”

Craig smiles and steps into the room. He’s out of his tux, into a worn shirt and sweats. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, it adds to how comfortable he looks. He’s got a pizza box with him, sets it down on the other towel on the floor by the tub, “You two should be hungry, right? Saved you some stuffed crust before Parker claimed it all.”

Chad eyes the box as Craig sets it down, cheeks a bit red, slightly embarrassed like he always is when someone walks in on them. Sam doesn’t know why, he makes out with most of them. He takes his hand off Chad’s throat, leaving gold in the shape of his hand behind, “Ah, you’re such a goddamn sweetheart.”

Craig rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling, heading back towards the door to no doubt finish his own food before settling in and tallying up profits with Bryan, “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. Don’t prune up in there.”

“No promises. Thank you!” Chad leans and grabs the box, holding it with both hands and flipping it open. There’s half a combination pizza and half a stuffed crust pepperoni thrown in over it. Chad’s stomach growls longingly.

“Damn. Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam snorts and grabs a loaded piece, cheese hot and clinging to the bottom of the box as he pulls it up, creating strings that are finally pulled too much and break off. He holds the slice up to Chad’s mouth, “Come on.”

Chad is so thankful. He eagerly takes a good sized bite and hums, nodding as the flavors and grease hit his taste buds. He talks with his mouth full, Sam never minds, “Had someone’s mouth on mine. Makes it kind of hard to talk.”

“Not my fault you wanted to kiss instead of eat.” Sam takes a bite after him, leaning back against Chad’s thigh. He chews slowly and relaxes, watching Chad as he lays back against the tub and closes his eyes. He reaches over and takes Chad’s jaw lazily in one hand, squeezing lightly. Chad opens his mouth and Sam feeds him another bite.

Chad licks his lips, feeling Sam’s thumb rubbing back and forth over his chin. He feels taken care of with the small gestures, “We could kiss while we eat.”

Sam’s quiet for a while, busy feeding himself while Chad chews. Chad’s too relaxed to open his eyes and look at Sam’s face. The reply comes after he’s given another go at the slice, “Chad James with the good ideas tonight. First the floor plan fix during the heist, and now this. Mm, damn good.”

When he’s swallowed his bite, he feels Sam pull him by his jaw, feels the warmth of his breath just before they’re kissing again. The kisses are slower again, more drawn out, multiple breaks taken to eat. Sam feeds him so he doesn’t have to open his eyes or let go of the box. His headache is starting to lessen already, or maybe that’s just because he’s not focusing on it anymore. Sam is much more pressing, more important, such a good distraction. When he gets himself messy trying to be ambitious with bigger bites, Sam licks the sauce off his lips before he can get to it himself. They make it most of the way through the pizza, halfway through Sam gets his leg in the tub, water having cooled enough. They go ahead and wash up, hands still on each other more often than not. They were pretty clean to begin with, but they scrub anyway, making their skin softer and more glitter present. Having the jets on occasionally speeds up how fast the water gets cold, but they mutually decide they’re done when the time comes.

They rinse off and get out, use the good towels, the ones that aren’t steeped in old blood stains that couldn’t be washed out. They’re fluffy and plush against their skin, and Sam being most of the way dry, he immediately lays down in Chad’s bed. They don’t turn the light on, again letting the light from the hallway flood into the room. Chad opts to get dressed, watches from the corner of his eye as Sam slides a piece of crust out from the pizza box and eats it slowly, eyes closed, “Not getting clothes?”

“Nah, just grab me somethin’ of yours,” he says around the food in his mouth and a pillow pulled down and propped up under his head. His eyes are closed and one hand is idly running through his damp hair, “Pajamas. Long sleeves. Pants.”

Chad gets himself into an old shirt and sweatpants, grabs Sam what he usually wears when he comes into Chad’s room like this, “Yeah, yeah. I know what you like.” He tosses the clothes at Sam’s chest when he comes over to lay down. Sam smiles and gets up to dress himself. Chad gets his blankets together, moving the pizza box to the floor, comfortably full. He lays down and sighs, closing his eyes while getting himself comfortable. He hears Sam leave the room, and drifts in and out of sleep a little waiting for him to come back. He probably hit his head (and got his head hit) harder than he thought, but it’s not too concerning.

Sam brings him out of it with his hand on his cheek, making him sit up slightly and drink some water. He’s so tired, the next thing he feels is Sam sliding in next to him, manhandling him into a position he wants, patting his stomach when he complains about Sam jostling him around. He’s quickly made comfortable. He hears someone, maybe Bolen, tell them goodnight and Sam says it back. He kisses the bridge of Chad’s nose before mumbling something affectionate, which Chad responds by slipping his hand under Sam’s shirt to hold his side. Another heist done, another end here. Still glittering with gold on their skin, they sleep off their injuries easily.


End file.
